


Cynosure

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, M/M, Violence, demon!hisoka, god!chrollo, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Pale pink lips curled into a rueful smile, his dark eyes as deep as night. “You’re watching me,” he said in that smooth voice, “but I’m not dying.”“I don’t know if I’d rather kill you or marry you,” Hisoka replied, imagining how lewd that mouth could look curled around something other than words.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> needed something to do before i drive myself crazy so i started in on this one. updates will come as i finish chapters since im writing this one piecemeal. enjoy~

The heat of the burning village rose towards the sky, darkening the air with soot, smoke, and fear. In the middle of it all stood Hisoka, grinning and bloody from his horns down to his boots. A peasant threw herself down at his feet, body prone into a position of complete supplication. Another followed, and then another.

One church was all it took, he mused, flicking the blood from his clawed fingertips. Just one, and they all came to beg.

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, thick and acrid like the stench of burning wood and the bodies of those too slow to escape the flames. “You know what I want,” he told them, loving how they still refused to raise their heads for fear of painting themselves a target. “Bring me him or I slaughter everything I see.”

A cry arose somewhere in the back of the prostrate masses, some lament that carried through to those in front. Hisoka rolled his eyes and snapped his bloody fingers, setting another building ablaze. It did more than another threat would, a cluster of villagers tripping to their feet to race off towards the shrine on the hill.

Hisoka’s smile felt cruel. It felt sharp. His blood felt as hot as the flames, licking the inside of his veins in eager, pulsing flutters. He couldn’t wait. What would a god’s blood taste like?

He couldn’t wait, and another building combusted, the air alive with his bloodlust.

He didn’t register that he’d moved until the screams sounded.

Villagers scrambled over each other to avoid him as he strode through their ranks, a wake of fire sprinkling the loam at every footfall. Hisoka stared at the shrine, imagining he could see the white of the god’s robes, the white of the marble altar he never left. Why bother with waiting for him to come to him? Hisoka didn’t need an audience to paint a god red.

The distance was devoured beneath him and he could hear the frightened shouts and pleading invocations before he even touched the steps of the shrine. Holy energy wafted off the place in sickening waves, but Hisoka didn’t care. It would take far more to dissuade him.

“Please!” a man begged, his voice broken and weak like humanity itself. “You must flee! The demon king will kill you!”

“He’s on his way here now,” another cried, and Hisoka reached the top of the steps, staring into the shrine hungrily.

Like the village he had just decimated, the shrine stank of rank mundanity. Cold, uncaring marble encased the altar, pillars supporting the structure overhead with no attempt made at splendor or decadence. Offerings scattered the stone floor, disturbed by the group of humans crowding the slab.

Purity itched at his cheeks but not enough to put him off. Hisoka grinned, baring his fangs. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” he recited, drinking in the way they all despaired, whirling around to take in the demon in their midst.

And oh, how brave mortals could be. A strapping young man held his arms outstretched, blocking the view of the altar behind him. “We won’t let you defile him!” he declared, the others rising up to match his stance with the same stupid eagerness on their faces.

“It’s good that you’re in a shrine,” Hisoka sighed, raising his hand to snap. “There are worse places to die.”

“Move aside,” a soft voice spoke, somehow cutting through the tension like a knife through paper, crisp and cool.

The villagers turned away from Hisoka, stupidly showing their backs to address the god still hidden from view. “Please, don’t do this,” one pleaded, tears in her eyes. “We mean nothing compared to you.”

“Move aside.”

Hisoka’s mouth watered and the humans moved, crying silently as they watched their god cast off what little protection they could offer. A figure clad in pure white slipped into view, reclined on the altar as if roused from sleep by the clamor. Divinity exuded in waves but Hisoka paid it little mind. He came closer, his bloodlust burning the purity from the air until every breath tasted like ozone.

A veil covered the god’s face, hiding the fear he longed to see. Pale, slender hands lay clasped on the figure’s stomach. “Who are you?” the god asked softly, hidden eyes fixed on the stone above his head instead of the demon charring his shrine.

“The one who kills you,” he replied just as levelly, ignoring how the humans sobbed.

“That’s quite a name. I am Chrollo.”

Hisoka raised a brow, wondering if this was humor or just divine indifference. “I’m Hisoka,” he offered, coming closer until he stood at the altar’s side.

“Why are you killing my flock, Hisoka?”

He clenched his hands into fists, the flames pouring off of him. Why wouldn’t he look at him? “Because I want to kill you,” he answered, putting his hands on the altar stone to crush the rock to dust. It didn’t matter that it burned and stung.

A flutter of a laugh disturbed the veil’s rest. “Then why bother in the village?” he wondered, the question said in a way that Hisoka knew meant it wasn’t directed at him. “Is the shrine not easy to find? What a curious demon.”

Hisoka watched him raise a hand, but it was only to dismiss the watching villagers. They clutched each other and cried, leaving noisily. It was about time, he thought. They had a village to douse and dead to bury.

“I’m going to kill you,” Hisoka repeated. “You and the humans.”

“The humans? I wonder why,” the god sighed. “If you’re going to kill me, I would ask you to leave the humans be. They’ve done nothing to deserve such a thing.”

“And you have?” Hisoka huffed.

The god shrugged, and Hisoka had had enough of the martyr routine.

Quicker than the eye could follow, Hisoka grabbed the god by the robe, yanking him up from his supine position. The blood on his hands stained the white, but it wasn’t nearly enough yet to sate. “I came here for satisfaction,” Hisoka purred, loving how he hefted the waif of a god easily. “And you’re going to give it to me.”

The covered head cocked and pale hands rested limply in his lap. He wasn’t going to fight back, that much was clear. Was it defeat? Indifference? Fear?

“Take off the veil,” Hisoka ordered. “I want to watch you die.”

Narrow shoulders slumped tiredly, but the hands rose dutifully to lift the veil. White lace fluttered and drew away, baring the face of the god with merely a sigh for fanfare. A face as pale as the white stone looked up at him dolefully, ink black eyes waiting for him to move.

Hisoka sucked in a breath, struck.

Pale pink lips curled into a rueful smile, his dark eyes a deep as night. “You’re watching me,” he said in that smooth voice, “but I’m not dying.”

“I don’t know if I’d rather kill you or marry you,” Hisoka replied, imagining how lewd that mouth could look curled around something other than words. He moved his hands higher, cupping the god’s face in his bloody hands until he stained the white of his cheeks red.

Soft. He was so soft.

“What an odd demon.”

What an odd god, he was tempted to say. He settled on grabbing his delicate wrists in his hand, eyes devouring every inch of the slender body hidden beneath the diaphanous robes. It would be a right shame to kill something so beautiful, especially when he could enjoy it in his bed.

He was already getting hard at the thought.

Brow furrowing, the god stared at him in confusion. Even like this, he was absolutely ravishing. Chrollo didn’t even cry out when he hefted him up, throwing him over his shoulder like a spoil of war. His slight weight settled on him easily, and Hisoka rested his hand on a slender thigh, imagining how good he'd feel naked.

"Congratulations," he said, a beaming smile breaking across his lips as he took the god from his temple. "I don't think you'll be dying today."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had this one half written when i did the first chapter so here u go

Hisoka wasn’t sure if he’d rather have had Chrollo struggle some more during the descent into hell, or if he should just be grateful he didn’t have to bother with tying up his new bride. It wasn’t as if they had to stand on ceremony for the other demons, but having such a passive god thrown over his shoulder made his conquest seem a little less impressive.

At least Chrollo’s face made up for it, he thought, kicking aside the lesser imps in the path as he strode through the pits of tortured souls. Beauty like that was sorely missed in a place like this.

“I suppose we should discuss the nuptials, shouldn’t we?” Hisoka prompted, moving Chrollo off his shoulder and into his arms so they could meet eyes and discuss this properly. The screams of agony seemed to fade in the glory of his bride’s visage.

Chrollo didn’t bother replying, too busy staring blankly at the scenery to care.

“I am a king here, so there’s no need for a ceremony,” Hisoka went on, talking to himself since Chrollo seemed content to let him. “I am the law of the land, so I suppose if I say it, then we’re married.” Bringing his lips to a pale, pierced ear, he let out a hot breath. “I just want to have you in my bed.”

There was no disagreement or fight, so he took that to mean he agreed.

The gates of the castle were just ahead now, large, black, and ornate among the fiery pits and rough terrain. They swung open the moment he got close, the rank and file demons all watching as he carried the god through the portcullis. He made sure to turn Chrollo’s face into his chest. These types didn’t deserve to look upon the divine.

Their whispers followed them as they journeyed deeper into the castle, the stone doing little to muffle the harsh, guttural language of the infernal. “Pay them no mind, pet,” he soothed, trailing his lips through soft hair. “They’re just jealous they can’t touch.”

 The castle itself held plenty to distract from it, if it indeed bothered Chrollo at all. He was about as readable as a stone statue, and just as warm. Stone artifices stood in intricate arrangements, gargoyles and brimstone adding a bit of color to the drab black. Tapestries and luxurious fabrics swathed the interior, burning bright red in the dark, torchlit passages.  

“And this is our room,” he announced, stopping before the impressive-looking door. “It’s a convoluted path, but you needn’t fear. I don’t anticipate you leaving the bedroom often.”

And why would he ever wish to? The door opened and he strode inside, letting Chrollo take in the sumptuous suite, the tasteful art, and the massive bed that dominated the center of the room. Visions of them together atop the sheets danced before his eyes, and he couldn’t wait to make them a reality.  

He didn’t let Chrollo’s feet touch the ground. Instead, he laid him out on the bed, drinking in the sight of his beautiful bride against the crimson sheets. “Welcome home,” he said, and he kicked off his boots to crawl up beside him, eager to touch. This altar suited him far better than that cold stone monstrosity had.

While he didn’t squirm away from him, Chrollo turned to face the wall, shutting him out as much as he could, given the situation. The bloodstained robe clung to his body like a second skin, giving the illusion of modesty while highlighting every curve of his sensual figure. Hisoka let him turn away. He could ignore him all he wanted, so long as he was close enough to touch.

Soft, soft, soft. Hisoka couldn’t stop smiling as he let his hands wander, and of course the indifferent creature refused even to look at him. “Do you hate me?” he asked, burying his words in the silken ebony locks hiding a delicate ear from sight. “Do you want to kill me? You could fight me, you know.”

Chrollo closed his eyes, appearing asleep were it not for the quick rise and fall of his breath. Hisoka cradled him in his arms, rolling his hips into his bride’s ass to show the intent that was already plain to see. Why wouldn’t he struggle?

“You waited for me like a lamb ready for slaughter, but you have to have more pride than that,” Hisoka pushed, dragging his hand along a long, slender thigh. The silk he wore was nearly coarse compared to the smoothness of his skin.

“What use is pride?”

Hisoka stalled at the reply. He’d been talking to himself for long enough that he was surprised. “What use is pride?” he repeated, hoping to get more conversation out of his recalcitrant bride before he clammed up again. “Don’t you like the idea of being the best? Being completely assure of yourself?”

Chrollo opened his eyes, his dark lashes falling against his cheeks with every lazy blink he made. “But what use is that?” he murmured, staring down at the hand wrapped around his thigh. “You and I are beyond pretenses. There is no need to front.”

“What a depressing creature you are,” Hisoka observed, squeezing his leg for a reaction he knew wouldn’t come. “You could at least pretend to be more fun for me. You did lose, so have some grace.”

It was as if a statue had come to life in his hands. Chrollo let out a sigh and jerked his thigh free, rolling over to face him. “What do you want from me?” he demanded, black eyes narrowing. “I have agreed to the terms and followed them. If you wanted me to grovel or prostrate myself, you should have included it.” Crossing his arms, he frowned. “You said you wanted me in your bed, not how I had to act once in it.”

Pushing himself up onto an arm, Hisoka looked down at the beautiful god, wondering if he should be angry or just relieved that he hadn’t made off with a block of ice instead of a bride. “So you can be fun,” he grinned, enjoying how affronted Chrollo became. He leaned closer and Chrollo shied away like a nervous fawn.

Hisoka wondered if he realized he did so, or if his body was betraying him already. In either case, he was eager to see more of it.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, close enough for the quick, hot puffs of Chrollo’s breath to ghost across his lips.

“Of course not,” Chrollo lied, his eyes wide and dark enough to drown in.

Lifting his hand, Hisoka settled it on Chrollo’s cheek, his thumb stroking along soft, parted lips. “You shouldn’t lie to your husband,” he teased, edging nearer until they shared the air between them.

If Chrollo wanted to respond, he didn’t give him the chance. Hisoka closed the distance and kissed him, holding Chrollo in place when he instinctively tried to jerk away. Like every other part of him, Chrollo’s lips were sinfully soft and sweeter than divinity had any right to taste.

It was a simple thing to guide Chrollo back down, to roll over him and rest along his body. Hisoka kept his eyes open while he partook, slipping his tongue past lax lips to take stock of Chrollo’s. Small hands gripped his shoulders tightly and Chrollo keened pitifully for breath, and it was only once he began to struggle that Hisoka finally pulled away.

Staring down at him, Hisoka licked his lips and took in his bride, flushed and glassy-eyed amidst the pillows. “You taste exquisite,” he crooned, rolling his hips against a warm thigh. “Was that your first kiss? You look so lost.”

Color sat high and bright on his cheekbones at the words, but Chrollo remained steadfast despite it, pouting at him in a manner that was no doubt supposed to seem stoic. From where Hisoka was positioned, it only came off as debauched.

He grinned widely and Chrollo shrank back. “It was, wasn’t it?” he pressed, dipping low to lave his ear with his tongue. “This is probably the most you’ve ever been touched, isn’t it? By anyone. Aloof god, too high on that pedestal to be worshipped the way you deserve.”

“Stop,” Chrollo whined, his eyes shut tightly and his hands clenched in the sheets.

“Why?” Hisoka asked, pulling back just enough to meet his eye. “Afraid you might like it too much? There’s nothing wrong with a little sin.” Especially if it suited him this well. Hair a mess, his robes disheveled and loose, he looked like the most delicious temptation Hisoka had ever seen.

Licking his kiss-swollen lips, Chrollo whined again. He looked towards the door, baring his throat like a siren’s call. “You’re terrible,” he murmured.

Unable to resist, Hisoka brought his lips to his neck, sucking his mark into the pale skin until Chrollo was nearly singing in his ear. “And you’re ethereal,” he told him between licking bites, “so I think we even each other out.”

A small hand clutched at his hair and horns, a token effort towards yanking him away that turned into more of a caress than anything halfway through. Chrollo shook, trembling in his arms the more he touched. His scent was intoxicating, invading his every sense like a poison. Hisoka soothed the sting of his teeth with a swipe of his tongue, returning to his bride’s lips to taste the desperation for himself.

He savored it for all of a moment before Chrollo began to thrash, ripping his mouth away while his hands shoved and pushed. “Get off! Off, off!” Chrollo gasped, his eyes wide like a frightened horse caught in a storm.

Hisoka, caught off guard, rolled onto his shoulder and away from the warm, inviting body. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, but Chrollo wasn’t listening. “Did I do something wrong?” The god refused to look at him though, too caught up in getting away from him.

With nowhere to run, Chrollo tore at the sheets on the bed, burrowing himself in them as deeply as he could until Hisoka could scarcely see him. “Don’t touch me,” he said, his voice muffled by the blankets but his tone all too clear. “Don’t.”

Confusion hit him in a wave. “Excuse me?” Hisoka prodded, tugging at the mass of bedding.

“You heard me!” Chrollo snapped, rolling dangerously close to the edge just to put more distance between them.

“Is this some prudish tantrum to get out of sex?” Hisoka huffed, sitting upright and crossing his arms. “We are married now. That tends to denote consummation.”

“Then why don’t you just take what you want like you demons do?” he shot, his voice taking on that impassive, airy quality it held before, when he was laid out on the altar behind his veil.

It was a good thing he was buried as deeply as he was, else he might have seen Hisoka flinch. “Is that what you think of me?” Hisoka sighed. He reached out a hand but couldn’t bring himself to touch the sheets. In Chrollo’s defense, it wasn’t like he’d done much to argue the opposite.

The bundle said nothing, but he could see how Chrollo trembled below the layers. Biting his lip, he drummed his fingers one his arm, willing away the lust still hot in his veins.

He chewed on the words, wrinkling his nose at the taste. “Do you want to talk about it?” he forced, spitting them out before the bitterness could take over. What had he even done? Chrollo had seemed so receptive.

“I want you to keep your hands to yourself,” Chrollo said back at him, sounding far more animated now than he had in the entirety of time they’d known each other. “And that includes your mouth, too.”

“But you seemed to like my mouth,” Hisoka complained, inching towards him now that the raw, fear-filled edge had faded from his voice. Perhaps he had been too aggressive. It’d been awhile since he’d last had a virgin, and he should have realized how skittish a virgin god might be.

Chrollo didn’t deign him with a reply to that. He also didn’t deign to roll off the side of the bed just to avoid Hisoka’s touch. Bundled as he was, he simply allowed Hisoka to drag him in, as impassive and indifferent as stone wrapped in silk.

He was careful not to pin him or make him feel boxed in. “Would it help if I apologized?” Hisoka tried, nuzzling Chrollo’s cheek through the thin sheet. “I’m sorry, so please come out. I won’t do it again, so don’t hide yourself from me.” It’d be embarrassing to spend the first night together on opposite sides of the bed, sans blankets, he wanted to say.

Slowly, Chrollo’s head emerged from the bedding. Dark eyes stared into his own, red-rimmed and still a bit icy.

“There you are,” Hisoka sighed, moving slowly to take him by the cheek. When he didn’t pull away, he brought their foreheads together. “Is this alright?”

Chrollo gave a muted nod, his cheeks tinged pink from the proximity. “No one touches me,” he said in a rushed whisper. “No one looks at me.”

Hisoka let out a breath, smiling softly. Beautiful, touch-starved, and shy. “Then we’ll have to work on that together,” he soothed, leaning forward just enough to brush their lips together in a ghost of a kiss. No veil would ever hide this from him, not if he had any say in the matter.

His eyes wide, Chrollo blinked and then turned onto his side, once again facing the door. “I’m tired,” he mumbled dismissively, leaving Hisoka floundering once more to keep up with his moods.

And I’m still hard, he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. “Of course,” he settled on saying, kissing Chrollo’s head as he waved out the lights, casting the room into relative darkness. Looping his arm around his bride, he pulled the bundle close, burying his face in the back of his neck to let his scent wash over him.

Chrollo was a rigid as a board, but he relaxed eventually. Hisoka kissed his neck, the warmth of the bruises already beginning to rise to the surface. How would he react to seeing them? Would he let Hisoka leave more?

The arousal from before hadn’t faded in the slightest, but Hisoka willed it to abate for the moment. There would be time enough for that later, he thought. Just as soon as he acclimated this beautiful god to the pleasures of the flesh.

He could hardly wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Hisoka awoke to his new bride slipping off the bed and crashing to the floor in a heap.

Yawning, he rubbed at his eyes and wondered where his ideal morning after had gone. “Are you trying to run away?” he asked, peeking over the edge of the bed to take in his crumpled bride, spread prone on the fancy rugs like a newborn deer taking its first steps. Had he tripped or was this just how he moved on his own?

Chrollo resolutely didn’t respond. He gathered himself and tried to stand, the blankets he’d taken with him in his tumble softening the floor when he collapsed yet again. He let out a muted little moan but didn’t try to get up again, content to curl up in the bedding and wait for Hisoka to rouse.

The pitiful display was so cute Hisoka wondered if he were still dreaming. Leveling himself up, he got off the bed to gather him up in his arms, lifting him from the ground as easily as hefting a kitten. “That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked, settling him on his feet. “Not used to walking, are you? Must not be much reason if you never left that altar of yours.”

“I’m fine now,” he insisted, staring at the floor. “I know how to walk.”

Hisoka doubted that, but he didn’t argue. “You don’t need to,” he told him, coming closer to trail his fingers along the bruises he’d left on his throat. “I can carry you wherever you need to go.” Chrollo turned away from his touch, baring the expanse for his lips to tease. “Around the castle, the grounds,” he murmured, fixing a hand to Chrollo’s hip. “To the bath, to bed.”

Wrinkling his nose, Chrollo shifted away from him, swaying dangerously to show that he’d rather fall back to the floor than be pawed at. “To the bath?” he pouted, saying the word derisively.

“You sound as if you’ve never taken a bath before,” Hisoka teased, wondering how much Chrollo would protest if he tried to disrobe him himself. He could certainly use one. His robe was a mess of dried blood and soot, Hisoka’s battle-grime clinging to the white of his robe.

Clutching tightly to his sleeves, the god shifted on his feet, unused to being upright. “How would I have ever gotten dirty,” he asked, looking up at him with a measure of blame in his eyes, “if no one ever touches me?”

The rusty blood flaked off his robes when he moved, Hisoka’s handprints marking their ownership atop his body. A ripple of heat passed over his spine. He’d been the first to sully him, and Chrollo hadn’t even taken his clothes off yet.

Let me, he begged silently, reaching for the hem of his robe. He had to see him. Feel him.

A slender hand caught his wrist before he could touch, deceptively strong in the best way. “You write your desires across your face with no ounce of shame,” Chrollo told him, dark eyes threatening to drown him in their depths. “Why would I allow you to taint me more than you already have?”

This was the best. He actually looked ready to fight him. Hisoka bit his lip and hooked his waist in his free hand, yanking him close until their bodies were flush against one another. “Because I think you like it,” he whispered, ghosting his lips over his pretty little ear. He wanted to bite him, to make him bleed and beg. “Won’t you bathe with me?”

The hand on his wrist trembled, the grip loosening enough to pull free. Hisoka trailed his fingers along fabric of his robe, tugging it from his shoulder. Chrollo went stiff in his arms, his breathing as quick as a rabbit’s. Sighing, Hisoka stopped, leaving his shoulder bare as he looked into his panicked eyes.

“What will make this easier for you?” he asked, wondering if meeting halfway might lead to more.

“No one sees me,” Chrollo whispered, staring at his chest to avoid his eyes. His pale, narrow shoulder seemed to glisten in the low, intimate light. “You can’t see me.”

Hisoka raised a brow but didn’t complain. “The bath is drawn, so go ahead and get in. I’ll follow in a minute,” he said gently, and before Chrollo could part his lips to panic, he cupped his cheek and kissed him. “I won’t see you. Trust me.”

He didn’t wait for him to agree or complain. Nudging him towards the bathroom, he guided him through the door and closed it behind him, Hisoka turning towards his room the moment he was alone and groaning into his hands. This pace was glacial and he’d never been so hard in his life.

Shaking off the debilitating waves of lust, he went to the bed and tore off a strip of sheet, long and wide and thick enough to blot out the sight of the one who vexed him so. Stripping himself of his clothing, he returned to the bathroom door, blindfold in place, and entered without knocking.

The things he did for love.

Chrollo made a frightened noise, either from his nudity or sudden appearance, and Hisoka grinned, moving towards the sound of turbulent water. “Don’t fear, pet,” he crooned, stepping into the warm bath with practiced ease. “I can’t see you now.” He could tell Chrollo was scrambling at the side, trying to get out and away.

That just wouldn’t do, especially since he’d just gotten in.

“There you are,” Hisoka laughed, reaching Chrollo’s side in a blink. “Where do you think you’re going? You’ve only just got in.” He grabbed him by the ribs, tugging him back down into the water and into his waiting arms. Soft and warm and wet, he felt like the very definition of temptation.

But unfortunately, Chrollo wasn’t in the mood to be held and fondled. He struggled and pushed, clawing at the water with a desperation more often found in trapped animals than in married couples. “You’re naked!” he exclaimed, and Hisoka had to laugh, because Chrollo obviously had no idea how baths were taken.

“And so are you, but you don’t hear me complaining,” he hummed, nuzzling Chrollo’s cheek with his own, delighted by the softness. “Just relax, Chrollo. I won’t do anything. I just want to touch you a little.”

“This is considerably more than a little.” Chrollo stilled though, his fighting calming into pointed acceptance. His body shook and he held himself, hiding his nudity from eyes that couldn’t see.

What a shy creature he was. Hisoka kissed his face, raining them down until he seemed to quiet. “I can’t see you,” he whispered to him, running his hand along a soft arm, “so please, let me touch. You’re so beautiful.”

Chrollo didn’t reply, but he didn’t try to fight either. His breathing came quick, little puffs of breath cooling the water on Hisoka’s skin when he turned his face into his neck to hide. Every few seconds, his lips would skim his skin in accidental kisses. They were the only kind Chrollo was likely to give.

“Do I scare you?” Hisoka asked suddenly, stroking down the curve of his spine. Chrollo was so small. His hand nearly spanned the width of his back, his fingers counting out his vertebrae with each pass. How easy it would be to crush his ribcage and rip out his heart.

“Does it matter?”

Hisoka frowned. “I think it does, else we’re in for a rough marriage.”

“You want to kill me.”

“That doesn’t scare you.” He wondered if he could find the soaps like this, blindfolded and cradling the god. “You don’t care much about your life.”

Small fingers settled shyly on his upper arm, recoiling for a moment as if fearing he’d be burned if he tried to touch back. They caressed and squeezed, moving higher to settle on his cheek. “No one touches me,” he said again, emphatically. “No one sees me.”

Hisoka leaned into the hand, wanting to kick himself for not understanding what he meant when he kept saying that. Up on the altar, the veil over his face. “So I really am the first,” he mused, kissing Chrollo’s pulse point. This all must be frightening to someone who hadn’t felt another’s eyes on their body, let alone their hands.

And to think, he had him naked and in his lap right now.

“You should touch me,” he offered, laying a hand over the one on his cheek, holding him there. “You can touch and look all you want, and perhaps that will make you more comfortable around me. You must be curious about me.”

“Must I be?” Chrollo murmured, the fingers on his shoulder moving immediately to the horns on Hisoka’s head. They tugged and probed, feeling the ridges and sharp tip.

Hisoka tilted his head to give him a better angle, already smiling. “I should say so,” he breathed, loving the feeling of his fingers against the sensitive base. “You seem eager enough to explore.”

The touching stopped and Chrollo made a curious noise. “Why are you aroused?” he asked, no doubt staring down at Hisoka’s excitement only inches from his thigh. “You call me the eager one, but you’re lying.”

Heat pooled in his stomach, his cock twitching at the attention. Did Chrollo like what he saw? He was definitely looking, Hisoka could feel his gaze on him. “That’s what happens when you touch someone,” he purred, hating the blindfold for preventing him from seeing Chrollo’s expression. “I could make you eager too if you’d let me return the favor.”

Chrollo squirmed and Hisoka groaned, a soft thigh skimming against his cock.

“Please?” Hisoka begged, his head falling to Chrollo’s breastbone, speaking his words to the god’s heart. “Will you let me see you? Please, Chrollo.”

“What manner of king begs?” Chrollo answered, sounding so lost. “A demon begging a god. What is this?”

“Devotion,” Hisoka answered, letting his lips brush the soft skin. “Need. Desire. I want to worship you the only way I know how.”

The tiny gasp his ministrations earned him went straight to his cock. Chrollo carded his fingers through Hisoka’s hair, hiding his acceptance in the movement. The blindfold loosened more and more, slipping lower with each pass, and before long, Hisoka could see.

It took every ounce of control he had not to let the water boil with the heat of his want. The creature avoided his eye completely, his own closed tightly as if Hisoka would still be blinded so long as Chrollo couldn’t see him. Pale skin greeted him though, pink and flushed by the warmth of the bath and the teasing touches Hisoka couldn’t resist giving.

There were no words for how beautiful Chrollo was. Long limbed and shaped with loving ease, Chrollo looked like the very nature of purity. His skin carried the mark of Hisoka’s lust, but it did little to truly tarnish him. “I want to taste every inch of you,” Hisoka admitted, unable to hold back the note of desire eating him alive from the inside.

He went in for a kiss before Chrollo could run away, drinking in his surprise and deepening it the moment his lips parted. Sweet and soft, he tasted like innocence in the hands of the devil. Carefully, he coaxed Chrollo’s tongue into movement, holding him by the cheek to keep him grounded.

A small noise, no more than a whimper, echoed through their connection, Chrollo breaking away to gasp and shake in his arms. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asked, his head resting against Hisoka’s shoulder.

“Because I like it,” he answered, settling his hands on a slender waist. What he wouldn’t give to see him laid out on the bed like this, panting and begging for his touch. “Do you like it?”

“I don’t know,” Chrollo admitted, tightening his arms around Hisoka’s neck.

“Then we should keep doing it until you do,” Hisoka chuckled, finding his lips again to make good on the promise. Chrollo met him willingly this time, his mouth open and waiting for him to slip back inside.

Their chests brushed the closer they got, Chrollo rocking into him the more he squirmed. A wayward shift caressed his aching cock, making him shiver. Did he have any idea what he did to Hisoka? Did he know how sensitive he was, how much he ached to be inside him? Hisoka channeled the need into the kiss, hellbent on stealing the breath from his lungs until he understood the power he held.

Hands reached for his horns, yanking at them frantically. Chrollo struggled and whined, breaking away from him with wide eyes and pupils blown. “No more,” he managed to say, his lips so red and shiny from the attention. “I want out.”

“You want out?” Hisoka repeated, voice husky and low enough to rumble. His eyes fell to half-mast, locked on those lips. “We could go to the bed.”

Chrollo shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself, only seeming to realize his nudity and the heat Hisoka’s stare held. “No more,” he said firmly, shaking off Hisoka’s hands to slip off his lap. The water lapped at his flushed skin. “I want my robe.”

Hisoka wanted to cum. He sighed and tried not to let his disappointment show. “That thing is covered in blood. I’ll get you something clean.” He almost laughed when he stood up and Chrollo covered his eyes. “You should wash up while I do that. I promise I won’t peek.”

He left the bathroom and stood in the middle of his bedroom, snapping his fingers to dress himself in his usual fashion. The cool air tickled the skin exposed by the low neckline, his damp hair brushing against the high collar with every move he made. What to get for Chrollo though? A queen of hell needed to be stunning and threatening, and above all, declare the king’s claim.

Were it anyone other than Chrollo, he might have just kept his new bride naked. Seated on his knee and dedicated to his every whim, there’d be no possibility of another trying to take what was his. Sighing, Hisoka lamented the fact that Chrollo was far too modest to ever allow that. He’d have to make do with something that mirrored his own outfit, and do his best to keep a hand on his bride at all times instead.

With another snap of his fingers, his hand was filled with the decided upon piece. The new robe he chose for him better reflected his new role than that plain, unflattering one he’d found him in. Hisoka let his fingers dance along the silken garment, the blood and black burning the air with their richness. It would look so beautiful against Chrollo’s pale skin, as if he were embraced by flames.

The only thing left was to get him dressed and see the full effect for himself.

Opening the bathroom door, he smiled at the sight of Chrollo chin deep in the water, doing his damnedest to hide from him when the water was a clear as glass. “I think you’ll look ravishing in this,” he told him, staring at the cross emblazoned on his beloved’s brow. Kissed by heaven but clad in hell’s finery; he’d make such a lovely queen. “Come on out, dear one.”

“Close your eyes,” Chrollo insisted, modest though Hisoka had already seen.

“They’re closed,” Hisoka promised, holding out the robe for him, wrapping it around his slender body the moment he felt him step into his arms. He held him close and kissed his damp hair, breathing in their mixed scents until it filled his head. “Isn’t that better?”

If he wasn’t mistaken, the shy creature leaned into his embrace, letting Hisoka support his weight. “What now?” he whispered, stroking the arm that held him. His fingers felt cool on his hot skin.

Now? Hisoka laughed, scooping Chrollo up before he could try to run away again. “Now, my love,” Hisoka crooned, spinning him around until he clutched him for dear life. “Now, we go greet your new subjects.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I could walk,” Chrollo murmured once they’d left the confines of the bedroom, his hands clenched in the fabric of Hisoka’s shirt. “You needn’t carry me.”

“The floor isn’t worthy of being touched by you,” Hisoka gave, holding him tighter in case he decided to try and push the point. His hand was wrapped around his bride’s ribcage, and with every step he took, he could feel the pitter patter of his heart beating against his hand, flitting to and fro like a bird in a cage.

Chrollo frowned, though it came off as more of a pout. His cheek fell to Hisoka’s lapel, his warm breath tickling his neck in measured puffs. “You let me walk before,” he complained, citing the bath from before. “You woke up to me on the floor.”

The fact that he wasn’t embarrassed by the latter really made Hisoka’s heart sing. “That was the bedroom,” he crooned, bringing his lips to Chrollo’s soft ear. “That is a kingdom all your own. You may do whatever you wish inside it.”

Fingers tightening on the silk of his shirt, Chrollo’s heart pounded against his hand, the bird trying its hardest to escape. His pale lips pursed and he didn’t reply, hiding his eyes in Hisoka’s chest instead. It was just as well that he did.

The hallway they’d been traveling opened up before them, depositing them into the main throne room. Hisoka strode confidently, all eyes on him as he carried his new bride over the threshold and before the eyes of the kingdom of hell. Curious eyes and simpering voices flocked to him in droves, the imps and goblins and demons all hampering for a glimpse of the divine being in his arms.

Hisoka smiled, clutching Chrollo closer. He almost wanted them to try and touch, just so he could watch the flesh melt from their faces from the holy miasma Chrollo exuded with every breath.

Or well, he’d watch if he didn’t just eviscerate them first himself.

“Good morning, all!” he called out, silencing the rabble just like that. The way to his throne was clear and he walked between the hoards, seating himself with Chrollo draped across his lap. “I’d like to introduce you to your new queen.”

The demons shouted and jeered and Chrollo shrank into his chest, more bothered by the volume than by the filthy things directed at him. Hisoka shifted his neck, giving him a place to hide his face while he settled a proprietary hand atop his thigh. He really was cute when he was being shy.

With a wave of his hand, the first row of slathering demons burst into flames, the heat of the inferno hitting them in a gust that made even chilly Chrollo jump. He turned to look at the piles of ash on the floor, his dark eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

“Let’s show a little respect,” Hisoka grinned, kissing his bride’s cheek when Chrollo swiveled back around to look at him. “We want to make him feel welcome.”

“Why did you do that?” Chrollo whispered, the hoard falling to their knees without a pause for thought.

“They respond best to a little force now and again,” he explained, loving the intimacy of their words while the demons groveled at their feet. Another wave would just rise to take the dead’s place, so it wasn’t as if the kingdom were lacking.

Chrollo wrinkled his nose, no doubt smelling the burnt flesh in the air. “You ruined your floor,” he said plainly, leaning his head back down to rest on his shoulder, already worn out. “What a needless display. What will you do next, I wonder. Destroy the walls to impress me?”

Hisoka was relieved Chrollo spoke so softly, else he might have melted into a puddle from the mortification of being spoken to like that by his own bride. Laughing nervously, he ran his fingers through his hair and threw on a cocky grin, smiling so hard he felt the demons recoil. “Oh, pet, what does a floor mean when compared to you?” he tried, raining down kisses to his face and hair.

“A floor would see more use,” he murmured, and Hisoka shook his head, wondering if it was a mistake to bring Chrollo out without first schooling him in proper behavior.

Looking back towards the prostrate demons, he sighed. If Chrollo was uninterested in the power he wielded, he probably didn’t care much about the role he had assumed. “Such a morose creature you are,” he huffed, kissing him on the lips for a moment. “I could make them kill each other for your amusement if you wished it.”

Chrollo blinked, as impassive as the marble of his shrine. “Why would I ever wish that?” he pondered, looking at the far wall with fathomless eyes. “What good would that do? You demons are so wasteful.”

Rolling his eyes, he took the loss and moved on. “Stand up,” he ordered the gathered demons, hardening his voice to distance it from the soft quality Chrollo evoked in him. They arose with a shuffle, their horned, gnarled heads tilting up to look upon them. “Leave.”

They bowed and left, taking with them the frothing heat their bodies produced. Chrollo shivered and leaned into him, rubbing his cold nose against Hisoka’s bare clavicle. He didn’t bother watching them leave, too content to hide his face and nuzzle him in a sudden burst of shivers disguised as affection.

Hisoka ran a hand along Chrollo’s waist, the silk a poor substitute for his skin. But then again, that was easily rectified. “We’re alone now,” he whispered, finding the seam in the outfit with unerring accuracy, dipping inside before Chrollo could lift his face to look. “My beautiful Chrollo.”

Chrollo jolted at the touch, burying his face into Hisoka’s neck. His gasp was a hot gust, a soft, muffled cry that made Hisoka want to devour him right there, right now. “What are you doing?” he rushed, squirming deliciously in his lap, trying to avoid the hand.

Taking him by the hair, Hisoka guided his face from his neck with a gentle tug, taking in his beautiful, wide-eyed expression fondly. “I just realized something, is all,” he replied lackadaisically, kissing the pale pink lips with a familiarity that was already growing.

“What?” Chrollo asked, doing a poor job of avoiding the affections if he truly did wish to avoid them. His hands went to meet Hisoka’s, yanking it free from his robe with strength akin to a foal.

“That I’ve introduced you as my queen, giving you command of all I possess,” he murmured against his lips, “and we’ve yet to consummate our marriage. It’s quite a problem when you think about it.”

Chrollo turned away from his lips, letting him content himself with covering his cheek with kisses while he tried to breathe. He clutched Hisoka’s hand in his own, unsure of what else to do with it beyond keep it away from his clothing. “We are on your throne,” he observed breathlessly, his eyes wide with panic. “Why are you like this?”

Hisoka hummed, going to his ear to suck and nip. “So you wouldn’t refuse if we were in private?” he posed, stroking through his hair, making him shiver and clutch his hand to his chest as a lifeline. “This entire palace is ours. Yours. There’s no limit to what we can do within its walls, if we so wish it.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, Chrollo’s holy aura flickered and dimmed when he felt tempted. “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, sounding so lost and confused. He stared up at him, black eyes damp and deep, the bruises on his neck peeking out from the rumpled collar of the robe.

He laced his trapped fingers through Chrollo’s, bringing them to his lips to kiss chastely. “Because I want you, Chrollo,” he replied, letting the want pour off him, heating the air until it wavered like a mirage. “I want to make you feel.”

“Feel what?” His heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings, the heat undulating in time to his fear.

Hisoka leaned in for another taste, drinking in the sweetness of his touch like a man dying of thirst. “Everything,” he promised, shivering. Chrollo’s weight atop his lap made him feel so hot, his cock hardening with every nervous shift he made.

“Chrollo, I’d make you feel everything,” he promised, savoring the way his voice seemed to make his bride quake. “Things you’d never thought possible. I’ll make you forget your own name.” His hands tightened on the slender body, wondering how much more he could imagine it before he broke down completely and begged.

Eyes closed tightly and cheeks flushed pink, Chrollo looked how Hisoka felt. The grip he had on his hand was growing painful, but that hardly phased him. “No one touches me—” he tried, but Hisoka had grown tired of that phrase.

“Please,” he pleaded, “Chrollo, I need you. I want to make you sing. Don’t you feel good? I want to make you feel even better.” He tugged his hand free from Chrollo’s grasp, cradling his face until he looked at him. Hisoka’s eyes fell to half-mast, drunk from the beauty before him. “I want to kiss you until you know you like it.”

There was silence, and then there was a whimper. Chrollo clung to him tightly, tight enough to inhibit breathing, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Not when Hisoka felt warm breath tickle his ear, the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard following.

“Okay,” Chrollo whispered, hiding his face behind a veil made from his fringe. “Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hisoka could hardly believe his ears. He didn’t stop to ask again though. “Oh, Chrollo,” he groaned, dragging the beautiful god up for a devastating kiss, taking and taking until Chrollo was whimpering into his mouth. His hand went to the robe again, dipping inside to touch as much as he could before it was denied to him again.

Chrollo shook and tore his head away, gasping for breath with wide, fearful eyes. “Not here,” he begged breathlessly, biting his full bottom lip. “Not where anyone else could see.”

The possessive embers fanned into a full flame, igniting him inside. “Just me,” he promised, already drowning in the thought of Chrollo’s allowance. “I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else seeing you come undone.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Chrollo whined, clutching him tightly as he stood up, racing through the throne room so fast that the walls seem to blur with the movement.

“I have to, I want you to know how much I want you.” Hisoka tore through the halls, a trail of heat in his wake as he charged past winding corridors and demons without faces or names or any bearing on his thoughts. “I want to ruin you. I want to make you scream in pleasure until you can’t bear the thought of touching anyone but me.”

Whining louder, Chrollo hid his face, shrinking into his arms until he was a small ball of nervous energy, his excitement and tension wafting off him like perfume. He didn’t even bother to look up when Hisoka kicked open the door of the bedroom, or when he was deposited in the center of the bed. He simply turned his face into the sheets, hiding from him even now.

Hisoka clicked his tongue, crawling up onto the bed to run his hands along his perfect, soft, mindlessly soft body. “Don’t hide from me, pet,” he begged, nuzzling him gently. “I promise to be kind. Don’t you trust me? Don’t you want me?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Chrollo said, his voice muffled by the sheets. He didn’t protest though when Hisoka pulled him away from the bedding. His eyes were damp and his lips trembled. “I don’t know what you want.”

“I just want you,” Hisoka said, kissing him how he seemed to like. “Only you. Nothing more.”

“That’s what scares me.”

Smiling, Hisoka deepened the kiss, taking his mind from his fear with a few skillful moves of his tongue. His hands danced along his bride’s tight body, kneading into his muscles until Chrollo relaxed. “That’s it, love,” he crooned, nipping his earlobe to make him whine. “There’s nothing to fear. I only want to make you feel good.” He dipped his hands lower, running them along the silk tie holding his robe closed. “Let me see you.”

Pale hands grabbed for his, holding them away from the strap. “No,” Chrollo breathed, his eyes wide with panic. “Not all of it. I don’t….I can’t…” He broke away, looking at the wall. Skittish as a foal, Hisoka could see his doubt begin to grow, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Just a little,” Hisoka tried, taking back his hand and placing it on his own chest. “I’ll take off as much as you want, and then we can see how much you want to do.”

There was silence, but Chrollo gave a nod, short and clipped and shy. Hisoka wasted no time, his fingers dancing down his buttons with confident flare. Chrollo watched, mesmerized, as more and more skin kissed the air.

“Stop,” he cut in, and Hisoka’s fingers froze at the bottom of his shirt, the knuckles barely brushing his waistband. “That’s enough. No more.”

“Okay, no more,” he replied, bringing his hands back to Chrollo. This was about him anyway. Hisoka didn’t need to be naked to pleasure his bride. “Now you.”

Chrollo watched with wide, anxious eyes, his breath coming quick and short. His hands started low, running up the seam of the robe, pulling it away from his ankles, his knees, dragging gently along his smooth thighs. The tie at his waist loosened but Chrollo’s hands shot out, stopping it from being opened. Hisoka didn’t need to hear him say the words. His eyes told him to stop.

Hisoka wanted to cry, but he acquiesced, moving slowly and painstakingly, stripping Chrollo according to his anxiety. Kisses seemed to help speed it up, if only minutely. “You’re going to drive me mad,” he admitted, cradling Chrollo’s face in a hand while his other tugged at the fire-licked robe, baring a pale thigh and that alone.

Biting his lip, Chrollo looked beautifully open and woefully out of his depth. “Why do I feel like this?” he wondered breathlessly, closing his eyes as he rolled into Hisoka’s touch. He couldn’t seem to stop moving. Every twitch of his body sang like a harp string plucked, his lips parting to let forth his song.

“Because you want,” he told him, trailing his fingers over the silken flesh of his cock. “Because you feel.”

Giving out a choked moan, Chrollo lifted his hips greedily, chasing the feather-light brush of his fingertips. His hands were clenched in the sheets above his head, his entire body rattling like the enticing lure of a snake’s tail. Hisoka took him in hand and kissed him, drinking in his poison in hopes that it brought them all the closer.

Chrollo’s body was an utter mess of perfect lines and aching curves, matching him for every move he made like a shadow clinging to its host for fear of fading away. Hisoka thumbed the head of his cock, spreading the precum to ease the slide of his hand, delighting in the broken sighs and pleasure drunk whines it bought him.

“You are so maddingly beautiful,” he crooned, brushing his lips along the red in Chrollo’s cheeks. “Do you feel good? Do I make you feel good, pet? I want to take you apart until you hardly recognize yourself.”

“I feel so…I feel…” Chrollo cried, his dark eyes damp with tears. His hands left the sheets to grab Hisoka’s shoulders, dragging him in for a shaky, shy kiss. “I’m afraid,” he whispered against Hisoka’s lips, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what I feel.”

A shiver ran down his spine, his vision steeping red the longer they went. “You’re safe,” he promised, speeding up his hand until Chrollo was staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide and black and blind to all but what he felt. “You’re safe, so surrender to it.”

“Please,” Chrollo managed, gripping his shoulders so hard Hisoka fear he’d be bleeding in a moment. “Hisoka!”

He came, coating Hisoka’s hand, lips parted in a silent moan while his dark eyes closed like the petals of a flower retreating for the night. Hisoka bit his lip hard enough to taste iron, his ears ringing with the sound of his own name. Had Chrollo ever said it before? He was so painfully hard, so painfully, painfully hard.

Letting go of Chrollo’s length, he moved his attention lower, wrapping around a perfect thigh. “Chrollo, my pet, my love,” he groaned, raining down kisses along his cheeks. He rutted into him, his cock so hard it made his head spin. “The things you make me want.”

Soft, languid arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer and into a soft neck. Chrollo shook subtly, his breath racing still, like a rabbit’s. “Hisoka,” he moaned pitifully, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

And that more than anything else made Hisoka cum.

Moan choked and smothered, Hisoka rode his bride’s thigh like a dog in heat, spilling inside his tight trousers from the very thought of being the first to have ever brought Chrollo the pleasure of carnal release. His fingers tangled in Chrollo’s hair, pulling him up for a sloppy, breath-stealing kiss, adding to the filthiness of their hot embrace.

He rolled onto his shoulder when he felt his muscles threaten to give out, laying himself beside his bride with nary an inch between them. “Chrollo, you’re my everything,” he whispered, drinking in the beautiful expression the god wore. Debauchery gilded him like a lily, flushing his skin like the pink of a shy rose. “Did you like that?”

Chrollo’s lips trembled, his delicate fingers tightening in the fabric of Hisoka’s open shirt. He would look on the verge of tears if it weren’t for the gentle quirk tugging at the corners of his lips, the ghost of a smile fighting against the sensations still alive in his body. “Hisoka,” he gasped, leaning up for a kiss under his own volition. “Hisoka, I feel alive.”

Hearing that was almost worth the mess in his trousers. He rolled until Chrollo rested atop his body, his hands exploring the covered planes and curves of his bride’s hips. “There’s still so much more left to give you, Chrollo,” he grinned, loving the curiosity that took root at his words. “We’ve barely begun to scratch the surface.”

Hiding his face in Hisoka’s chest, Chrollo nuzzled him shyly. “If it feels like that…” he mumbled, relaxing when strong fingers ran through his messy hair.

“It will,” Hisoka swore, holding him tight enough to hurt. “It will.”

**Author's Note:**

> woot what a start. leave a nice comment and feed me since im perpetually starving. until next time~


End file.
